


Under A Graying Sky

by ArtemisDiana



Category: The Avengers (2012), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: All the creys, F/M, Feels, I shouldn't have written this at 4am, M/M, Multi, Superhusbands, not sorry in the least, unapologetic angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-18
Updated: 2012-12-18
Packaged: 2017-11-21 10:48:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/596852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArtemisDiana/pseuds/ArtemisDiana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They're two broken pieces, and their edges don't fit quite right. They're all they have, though, even if only in the quiet hush of the early morning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Under A Graying Sky

     It's not the first time Tony's found him, staring out over the city on the wrong side of four in the morning, eyes shuttered and muscles tense. It took a bit of working with him, of getting to know his quirks and habits, before Tony realized that even Captain America himself could have nightmares. It certainly won't be the last, what with the way the supervillians are coming up with new and ever more insane ways to try and kill them. Steve thinks he's responsible for all of the Avengers, even Clint and Natasha, as much as they belong to Agent Coulson, and he takes it personally any time one of them is even slightly injured. Ignoring the fact that both Thor, and Bruce are pretty much invulnerable, Steve has more then once stepped in front of a blow meant for them. Tony keeps meaning to try and break him of it, before he gets himself killed, but he's not sure it wouldn't change who Steve was.

     'Steve?'

     He's careful to move slowly but without sneaking, and to be within Steve's peripheral vision before speaking. There'd been an incident early on involving the shield and one of the windows, and Tony had no desire to replicate it. Steve turned to him slowly, skin pale and clammy, eyes red, and mouth a thin, sharp slash across his face. His eyes are hollow, haunted, and some nights Tony wonders if Steve is seeing Bucky or Howard instead of him standing there.

     'Coffee? Or some of Bruce's tea?'

     Steve nodded to the tea, padding after him into the kitchen and collapsing onto one of the stools. His posture is tired and loose, exhuastion seeping from him, and he slumped against the counter. The silence was calm and sticky slow, to be broken only by the whistling of the kettle, and Tony settled in to wait, knowing that time is all he can give to help Steve right now.

     'It was Bruce this time...'

     Tony kept quiet, letting Steve talk until he was hoarse, filling his mug whenever it went dry.

     They don't ever talk about these nights in the light of day, talk about how Tony's helped Steve clean up when he can't make it to the bathroom fast enough to puke after he wakes up, about how Tony keeps lists of everything Steve's ever dreamt about and tries his hardest to create ways to keep those things from happening. In return, Steve doesn't mention that sometimes Tony's food still tastes like sand and mud, that sometimes he still can't shower on his own and resorts to simply scrubbing himself down with a damp rag instead.

     They're both broken, shattered beyond repair, and they know it. Now they just do their best to keep each other shored up, because if one of them goes, the other won't be far behind. 


End file.
